


Pigtail Pulling

by sirius



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: F/F, Genderswitch, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:18:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirius/pseuds/sirius
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This fic was written in 2008 and includes explicit sexual content as well as genderswitch (femmeslash).</p>
    </blockquote>





	Pigtail Pulling

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written in 2008 and includes explicit sexual content as well as genderswitch (femmeslash).

“As a doctor,” Yamapi says, cradling his bottle of beer between his knees as he manoeuvres his Wiimote. “I think it's very unwise to promote the sexiness of smoking.”

“You're not a doctor,” Jin says. “You're pretending to be one.”

“I've had to do a lot of research for the role,” Yamapi says. “So I'm the authority on this subject.”

“You're not a real doctor,” Jin says. “So I'm ignoring you.”

“I'd be a better doctor than you,” Yamapi says. “You think every symptom means you're dying.”

“That stubbed toe was really painful,” Jin says. “I might've suffered long-lasting nerve damage.”

“You were fine that afternoon, when I was sucking-”

“Alright, alright,” Jin says. “I could've needed an amputation, though. It was worth checking out.”

“Your doctor groans when he sees you,” Yamapi says.

“Loads of people do that,” Jin says. 

“Not like _that_ ,” Yamapi says. “You're always there.”

“It's better to be safe than sorry,” Jin says, smashing his tennis ball past Yamapi and winning the match. “Haha, what is that now, 5 games I've won?”

“Six,” Yamapi says. “I'm just saying that as your doctor-”

“You're not my doctor,” Jin says. “Unless you want to make it kinky. And besides, you said it was sexy. Sexy trumps healthy.”

“Say that to me when you're ninety,” Yamapi says. 

“Alright,” Jin says. “I will.”

 

“Seriously,” Yamapi says, later, spilling beer on his pizza. “There's plenty of bad side effects, besides all the stuff on your lungs and all the infertility and the yellow fingers and the being unable to climb a stair and-”

“Like what?” Jin says. “If you can find one I've not heard before-”

“Gives you weird dreams,” Yamapi says, tapping his nose. “It's true. I read it on the Internet.”

“And everything on the Internet is true,” Jin retorts.

“You used to say that everything on Google was 100 per cent accurate.”

“I was a kid,” Jin says. 

“You said it last week!”

“I was drunk!”

“Anyway,” Yamapi says. “Smoking gives you weird dreams.”

“I always have weird dreams,” Jin says. 

“I know,” Yamapi says. “You're always kicking me.”

“That's not because of the dreams,” Jin says. “It's because you snore.”

“I do not,” Yamapi says.

“And you talk in your sleep.”

“I...probably do that. Anyway, you talk in your sleep, too.”

“Maybe we talk to each other when we're asleep,” Jin says. “Maybe we hate each other and can't stop arguing.”

“I think,” Yamapi says, slowly. “That your brain is like a zoo filled with pink Pomeranians. That's what I think.”

“Well, sometimes you look like a hamster,” Jin says. 

“You're going to be eighty years old by the time you're twenty-six,” Yamapi says. “Also impotent.”

“Your problem,” Jin says. “We'll just use yours.”

“As your doctor-” Yamapi begins, and Jin shifts across the sofa, knocking beer and pizza out of the way, and begins kissing him. It's a lazy kind of kissing, a half-assed attempt at accuracy and skill, but Yamapi moans into his mouth. Jin's hand is down his pants before either of them can speak, and he's halfway down Yamapi's jawline, nibbling, when Yamapi begins to snore.

Jin smacks him on the forehead, and Yamapi's head just shifts over to his other shoulder. He continues to snore, a wrangled triangular sound, and Jin goes off onto the balcony in a complete sulk. He watches the city roar past, so fast and so light, smokes a cigarette to calm the world down. There's something in the breathing of it, in the steady pace of it, in the dry taste of it, that makes him feel slow and languid.

 

Then, Kame calls him. 

“Are you drunk?” he says. 

“No,” Jin lies, starting to wonder whether he drinks too much.

“Are you smoking?”

“No,” Jin lies, blowing out smoke. 

“Good,” Kame says. “You know we have a shoot in the morning?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jin says. “Gotta be there by seven. It's cool, I've got it.”

“You are drunk,” Kame says. 

“I am not,” Jin says. 

“You never remember things when you're sober,” Kame says.

“Good thing I'm drunk, then,” Jin says. 

“I don't think it's wise to drink as much as you do,” Kame says. “The side effects are-”

“Everybody has become my doctor,” Jin complains. 

“Why?” Kame says. “What've you done?”

“Nothing,” Jin says. “Some crocheting. Oh, and I did a little bit of square dancing with a lovely young lady at the bar. I was home by eight, though, so I think I've been a good boy tonight. Can I have some yoghurt as a treat?”

“You're a pain in the ass,” Kame says, but there's amusement in his voice. “Are you alone?”

“Yamapi's here,” Jin says. “He's asleep, the stupid bastard.”

“It's midnight,” Kame says. “He should be asleep.”

“Why aren't you asleep, then?” Jin says. 

“I'm watching...stuff,” Kame says. 

“Are you watching the shopping channel again? Fucking h-”

“No!” Kame says. “No, the, er, football. Oh, fuck, I think my signal is going...”

There's the distinct sound of a crisp packet being rumpled against the phone.

“That's lame, Kame,” Jin says, and hangs up.

 

On his way to bed, Jin pokes Yamapi in the face until Yamapi makes a 'fnfnghh' sound, and then leaves him to it. He hasn't come to bed by the time Jin drifts off into sleep, annoyed and horny, so Jin resolves not to shag him in the morning. 

As soon as he falls into sleep, he starts dreaming. 

He's on his way into class, the school bell is ringing above his head. The classroom is rowdy, he can hear it from the corridor. He's all set to go in and laugh it up with his friends, the ones making all the noise, but a strange sensation is stopping him. It takes him a moment to realise what it is: inhibition. He's never felt all that shy before.

Looking down, it soon becomes clear that everything he knows is off-kilter. Instead of school trousers, he has long, lean, bare legs. With knee socks, unwrinkled ones, the ones he always loved to see girls wearing. And a skirt, pressed and neat. For a second, there's brain-crushing embarrassment: _when my friends see me dressed as a girl_ -

And then when he walks into the classroom and goes to sit down, he doesn't sit in the spot he remembers. He sits with the girls, who welcome him with nods and sparse gossip. Looking down at himself, he hasn't got hair on his legs. He hasn't got large feet. He hasn't got anything remotely manly. Instead, he has hips. He has small hands. He has, _ohhell_ , breasts. 

He has to fight the urge to feel just how soft they must be. They look soft, looking down. Not big, but soft, round. There's no way he can touch, he shouldn't even be _looking_ , but-

“Tomo-chan,” the teacher admonishes the straggler, who rushes around the door just before she closes it. “You're late.”

Two of the girls behind Jin snicker, and despite himself, Jin finds himself joining in. Unable to understand it, he looks up, confronted by an image of Yamapi, only _not_. She's small, lean, on the thin side. Her knee socks aren't smooth. Her hips are wider than Jin's are. Her breasts bigger. Ah, Jin thinks, jealousy. Only, when he looks down her body, it isn't jealousy so much as-

Tomo-chan makes a face at him. “What are you staring at?” she sneers, taking a seat near the boys.

 

It soon becomes clear that Tomo-chan and Aki-chan are rivals. Jin was kind of hoping it wouldn't be so, because this is just like a lesbian porno he watched once or twice or seventeen times and really, he'd like to start dreaming about something else, something altogether less arousing. 

They do gym together. Tomo is built for gymnastics in a way that Aki isn't; Aki has slender wrists and sleek hair and none of it works when upside down. Tomo throws herself, quite literally, into all of the exercises. When she pulls off flips and turns, she's so excited with herself that her cleavage heaves and Aki has to force her eyes away.

“Follow _that_ ,” Tomo stage-whispers, in her ear.

Aki tries, but she hasn't got the balls like Tomo does, and when she pulls herself out of the cartwheel her hair is all over the place. Tomo just laughs and stalks off, and it takes three other girls to stop Aki racing after her and tugging one of those stupid pigtails so hard it-

 

They shower, and they don't look at each other. There's glancing, obviously, but that doesn't count. Aki loves the way Tomo looks naked; the fullness of her. It's what earns her mockery and taunting, obviously, but Aki loves it. She is rounded and sexual, beautiful, only its ruined because her face is always making expressions. Aki prides herself on keeping a straight face. 

Tomo rubs soap into herself like nobody in watching, while Aki hides behind a towel for the most part. Tomo detracts from the teasing she receives by pointing it out, and when Aki blushes at the attention of the other girls, Tomo is the only one not laughing. 

When they leave the showers, Tomo flips the back of Aki's skirt up. 

“Nice,” she says, about her underwear, and for the life of her she doesn't know whether Tomo means it, or not.

 

“Jin,” Yamapi says, pulling his hair. Jin is lying on his back, taking up most of the bed, and talking incessantly about pigtails and skirts and cartwheels.

“Jin, for fuck's sake,” Yamapi says, lying down on top of him and burrowing himself comfortable. “If you stop breathing,” he says, “it's not my fault.”

“Your panties are nicer than mine,” Jin says, in his sleep.

 

It doesn't take long for it to reach crisis point. The teacher is away for last lesson of the day, chemistry, and everybody mucks around because that's what kids do when authority disappears. Aki sits at the back with her group and tries to ignore the chaos around her. Tomo sits to the side and makes faces at her, and by God, she's had _enough_ -

“What do you _want_?” she squeals, throwing down her pen and standing, her hands on her hips. She's aware that it's yanking her skirt up, aware that Tomo's eyes are on her thighs, and-

“God,” Tomo is saying, to the boy next to her. “She thinks I'm talking about her!”

“You were looking at me!” Aki yells. “I saw you!”

“As if I'd want to look at you,” Tomo retorts. “Urgh, why would anybody-”

“Aki,” one of her friends says, yanking her down into her seat. “She's not worth it.”

When everything calms down, when her breath comes under control, Aki steals a look across the classroom. That time, Tomo is definitely looking at her. She's slicking lipgloss onto her mouth, her mouth a big wide O, and looking right at her.

They meet up, outside the school gates.

 

“Look,” Tomo says, glancing around her. “Look, I don't have much time. Are you coming back to my house, or not?”

“I don't see why I should,” Aki sniffs. “You do nothing but insult me.”

“You're infuriating,” Tomo says. “That's why. You know you're hot shit. You know everybody can't stop looking at you. You act like you don't know, and that's so-”

“I like the way you look,” Aki shrugs. “Laugh at me if you want, but I like the way you look.”

“Come home with me,” Tomo says. 

 

“I'll come home with you,” Jin says. 

“Shut up,” Yamapi says. 

 

Aki is standing in Tomo's room. Tomo is clearing things off her desk chair, offering it to Aki. 

“My parents are away,” she explains. “Don't worry. Nobody's going to catch us.”

“We're not doing anything,” Aki says. Tomo just smirks. 

“So,” she says. “You like the way I look? I know you look at me, in the showers.”

“You look good,” Aki says. “I wish I had-”

“Do you want to feel them?” Tomo says. “You can.”

 

“Yes,” Jin says. “Oh God, yes.”

Yamapi hits him.

 

They're round, and soft. Full. The bra is probably a touch too small, actually, Aki thinks, but, God. Tomo undoes her shirt without being prompted, and the feel of them without the fabric in the way is even better. The skin is smooth, untouched, perfect. Aki reaches up her hand and touches both, one in each, feeling the soft press of nipple under her palm. 

And Tomo moans, then, and it's the purest sound she's ever heard. She's never had a boyfriend. Never really wanted one. But _this_ -

Without thinking, for the first time in her life, her hands move shakily to her waist and she unwraps the skirt from her hips. Tomo watches as it falls to a bunch on the floor, watches her school shirt fall around her shaking upper thighs. She watches Aki hard as she kisses her collarbone, earning a wriggle of discontent. She moves up her neck, kissing her throat and her chin and her earlobes, until finally, there's her mouth. 

Aki's hands wind around her neck when she kisses her back. There's too much lipgloss, it's wet and sticky and tentative, but there's never been anything Tomo has wanted more than this. When the bed comes up to meet them it's not a surprise, and the way Aki's hair moves across the sheets is nothing short of perfection. 

“Can I,” Tomo says. “I want to-”

Aki blinks, and Tomo taps her knee with frustration. “You know what I mean,” she says. 

“I know,” Aki says, a small smile playing on her lips. “I just want you to ask.”

Tomo doesn't ask, never has, never will. Instead, she buries a hand in Aki's underwear, carefully moving around until she finds the place that stops Aki breathing so hard, that makes her whole body stretching out and her hips push forward and her voice thicken like a bowstring becoming still. And when she's there, she moves in small circles, until Aki is pushing eager, until Aki is clutching at her shoulder with her little claws. 

“Touch me,” Tomo says then, because she'll be damned if Aki gets everything, the way princesses always do. 

Aki's hand is shaking like the rest of her, and Tomo lets her take her underwear off because it'll be easier and because Aki has the balls to try, and she likes that. And then, Aki doesn't touch her for a while, strokes her inner thighs and just watches to see what Tomo will do. And Tomo breathes, and frowns, and feels anger rising in her throat, and then suddenly Aki's fingers are where she wants them, and-

“ _Fuck_ ,” she stutters. “Yes, _fuck, there_.”

It's an awkward position to hold, Tomo half-straddling Aki and manipulating her fingers between her legs, but they manage, wrists stiff with it, breathing all over one another. Aki is soaking wet by the time Tomo's found her rhythm, pushing against Tomo's hand so hard she's worried it's going to break, and she realises that she can't hold her back. Aki hasn't any patience, which is surprising, because she's top in the subjects that require it-

“I have to,” she's saying. “God, please, I have to-”

It only takes a split second to make the decision, but Tomo has a split second, and pulls back and moves down so that her mouth replaces her thumb and she sucks so hard and so fast that Aki's hands disappear into her hair, beginning to pull with every twitch of her body. The noise is too much to bear, Tomo can't not touch herself, can't not get off at the same time as Aki's body thrums, her hips pushing up and her mouth crying open and then, and then, with a noise that's almost a sob Aki comes against Tomo's mouth and silence, finally, falls. 

They lie, breathing, for some time. Tomo feels sweat on her back, her shirt sticking to her. Aki lies with her hair tangled and her body open and for the first time, they both seem to feel they're where they should be. Which is when Aki reaches over and nudges her hand in-between Tomo's thighs, to finish what she started.

 

“Jin,” Yamapi groans, yanking his hair. “I can't sleep with you going on like-”

“Nnff,” Jin says. “What. What's on fire. What's happening.”

“You won't shut up,” Yamapi says. “You won't stop talking, I can't sleep-”

“I thought you were on the sofa,” Jin says. “You fell asleep when I was getting you off, you bastard.”

“It was nice,” Yamapi says. “Soothing. I'm sorry.”

Jin shifts, a bit, Yamapi's weight on him uncomfortable. Yamapi's eyes widen with surprise, then, and so do Jin's when he remembers the dream and the ache between his legs.

“I had a weird dream,” he says. 

“Well,” Yamapi says, reaching down underneath the blanket. “Tell me about it.”

“You were a girl,” Jin says, and Yamapi pauses a moment before taking Jin in hand, raising one eyebrow. “A really hot girl,” Jin adds, and pushes his hips forward, and Yamapi, to his credit, wraps one pliant hand around him. 

“What did I do,” Yamapi husks. “As this really hot girl.”

“Fuck, Pi,” Jin says, closing his eyes and reaching out a hand for the back of Yamapi's neck. He strokes the hair there, rocking his hips forward, sighing with pleasure. 

“Less swearing, more talking,” Yamapi says, slowing down.

“Oh, fuck, don't,” Jin says, his voice high and arched. “You were giving me head. I was a girl, too. We were girls and you were-”

“Did I have a nice mouth?” Yamapi says. “When I was giving you head?”

“Fuck, yes,” Jin says. “Don't stop.”

“Did you make a lot of noise?” Yamapi goes on. 

“Yes,” Jin says, covering Yamapi's hand with his own. 

“Make a lot of noise, then,” Yamapi says. “Or I'll stop.”

“You won't,” Jin counters, opening one eye. Yamapi slows, and Jin's grabs his wrist, and for a moment they're just glaring at each other before Jin gives in, a shudder running through his body.

“Fuck, alright,” he says. “God, you're such a-”

“Shut up,” Yamapi says. “You princess.”

Despite himself, despite every gritted instinct in his entire body not to come the second Yamapi calls him a princess, not to verify in Yamapi's mind that yes, Jin actually really fucking loves being called a _princess_ , Jin does, and hard, and so surprised it hurts. Yamapi laughs, then, licks his own hand, until Jin burrows down under the blankets and yanks his sweatpants off. 

 

“ _Jin_ ,” Kame e-mails Jin, the next morning. “ _It's seven am. Where are you?_ "


End file.
